Transcript Jean-Paul Sartre Nausea

Jean-Paul Sartre
Nausea
Title: Nausea
Author: Jean-Paul Sartre
Format: Hardcover
Language: English
Pages: 178
Publisher: , 0
ISBN: 0811201880
Format: PDF / Kindle / ePub
Size: 8.9 MB
Download: allowed
Description
Nausea is the story of Antoine Roquentin, a French writer who is horrified at his own existence.
In impressionistic, diary form he ruthlessly catalogues his every feeling and sensation about the
world and people around him.
His thoughts culminate in a pervasive, overpowering feeling of nausea which "spread at the
bottom of the viscous puddle, at the bottom of our time, the time of purple suspenders and
broken chair seats; it is made of wide, soft instants, spreading at the edge, like an oil stain."
Roquentin's efforts to come to terms with his life, his philosophical and psychological struggles,
give Sartre the opportunity to dramatize the tents of his Existentialist creed.
The introduction for this edition of Nausea by Hayden Carruth gives background on Sartre's life
and major works, a summary of the principal themes of Existentialist philosophy, and a critical
analysis of the novel itself.
Insightful reviews
Florencia: Roquentin, Meursault; Meursault, Roquentin. Now, go outside, grab a cup of coffee
and have fun. I'll be here, sitting on the floor surrounded by cupcakes, ice cream and some
twisted books, like an existentialist Bridget Jones, just contemplating my own ridiculous
existence, thanks to you guys and your crude and insightful comments about life and its
inevitable absurdity.
It is a tough read. Especially if you feel like a giant failure that never lived, but existed (to live,
one of the rarest thing in the world, according to another great writer). I don't know about the life
situation (and mental health condition) of you people out there, so I will certainly avoid the
pressure of recommending this book. At the same time, I wish everyone could enjoy Sartre's
beautiful writing. Yes, that is beautiful. And not too difficult to understand.
A couple of samples:
"Something has happened to me, I can't doubt it any more. It came as an illness does,
not like an ordinary certainty, not like anything evident. It came cunningly, little by little; I
felt a little strange, a little put out, that's all. Once established it never moved, it stayed
quiet, and I was able to persuade myself that nothing was the matter with me, that it was
a false alarm. And now, it's blossoming."
"When you live alone you no longer know what it is to tell a story: the plausible
disappears at the same time as the friends." (So simple and true.)
"If I could keep myself from thinking! I try, and succeed: my head seems to fill with
smoke... and then it starts again: "Smoke . . . not to think . . . don't want to think . . . I
think I don't want to think. I mustn't think that I don't want to think. Because that's still a
thought." Will there never be an end to it? My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I
exist because I think . . . and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's
frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing."
"They did not want to exist, only they could not help themselves... Every existing thing is
born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness and dies by chance."
"You know, it's quite a job starting to love somebody. You have to have energy,
generosity, blindness. There is even a moment, in the very beginning, when you have to
jump across a precipice: if you think about it you don't do it. I know I'll never jump again."
(NEVER)
His words are lethal. And real. And that's a dangerous mix. He shares some thoughts that a lot
of people can relate to, and, in most cases, those people won't know what to do with all that. I
know I don't. Besides feeling sick, what can you do? Write a book? Eat more ice cream? Go
skydiving? Plan a round-the-world trip? Quit your job and live in the country, eating raspberries?
Oh, to face the absurdity of the world and to feel free because of that. To stop this never-ending
search for meaning. To live. To live? A rare thing, indeed. (Oh dear, I sound like a self-help
author.)
This was the first time I read Sartre. I've read the brilliant, the one and only, the master at
describing the human condition, Dostoevsky; Camus, whose works I really like too; Kierkegaard,
the pioneer. So, Sartre was a must-read. Those authors speak right to my soul (wherever that
is), they get me (well, not Kierkegaard; at least, not that much. It's complicated. We're cool,
though). It's a comforting feeling... being understood by some dead writers that you'll never
meet, obviously.
Yeah.
Okay. So, I loved this book. It's a new favorite of mine. And I need some Seinfeld reruns now.
Note to self: if you're ever going to re-read this, don't do it while listening to Enya, Craig
Armstrong or Joy Division. It wasn't a nice feeling.
Feb 03, 14
* Also in my blog.
Joselito Honestly and Brilliantly: Let me give this difficult book a try.
Antoine Roquentin, the existential hero here, writes a diary where he records his attempts to
explain what has brought him to his present despair. Or Nausea, with a capital M. To convince
himself and his readers that this is real, he mentions anecdotes, stories and other characters he
had experienced and encountered. I was myself beginning to despair, as some of his passages
are really difficult and had dragged my mind into the void where it couldn't find meaning in his
explanation of meaninglessness when I found, just before the end, a sentence which, to me,
had summarized the entirety of Roquentin's ruminations. It reads:
"Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness and dies by
chance."
There. That's all there is here by way of philosophy. But let me break it down for you lest I am
accused of trying to write like Sartre.
EVERY EXISTING THING IS BORN WITHOUT REASON. "To exist is simply TO BE THERE",
says Roquentin. No one can deduce anything out of existence. Some people invent "a
necessary being" (Roquentin does not use the word "God") but this being cannot also explain
existence (why what is has to be and why not just nothing). Those who ascribe meaning to
existence lie. They cannot succeed in not feeling "superfluous...amorphous, vague, and sad."
You eat and drink to preserve your "precious" existence but there is absolutely no reason for
existing(let me digress, Catholic teaching says man was created so that he can love and serve
God, etc. Sounds crappy. If God is self-sufficient--and he must be otherwise he won't be
God--then why would there be a need for someone to love him?). Roquentin recalls having
made love to women and fought with men but he says these led him nowhere. He studied
history but says searching the past is in vain, he finds there only scraps of images of which he's
not sure what they represent. He goes on and on, tackling humanism, romantic love, etc. and
still--no meaning.
EVERY EXISTING THING PROLONGS ITSELF OUT OF WEAKNESS. Why weakness?
Because existence is thrust upon you. Before you existed (if there was such a time) you could
not have refused not to exist. And once you're here, you cannot will yourself out of existence.
Roquentin finds horror in this unfortunate situation:
"My thought is ME: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think...and I can't stop myself from
thinking. At this very moment--it's frightful--if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I AM
THE ONE who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: the hatred, the disgust of
existing..."
EVERY EXISTING THING DIES BY CHANCE. Compounding the above weakness is the fact
that a living/non-living thing also has no control over its death/end. Even chance conspires to
create a suicide.
Despite this bleak outlook, however, the novel ends in a guarded, hopeful note. Requentin is
listening to his favorite song by a black lady singer. He thinks about her, and whoever
composed the song, and he notices that he thinks of them with such "gentleness." Maybe this
singer and the composer are already dead, maybe they had thought "they were lost irrevocably,
drowned in existence." To Roquentin, however, they-"are a little like dead people...a little like the heroes of a novel; they have washed themselves of
the sin of existing. Not completely, of course, but as much as any man can."
This idea, continues Roquentin, suddenly knocks him over-"because I was not even hoping for that any more. I feel something brush against me lightly and
I dare not move because I am afraid it will go away. sommething I didn't know any more: a sort
of joy. The (singer) sings. Can you justify your existence then? Just a little? I feel extraordinarily
intimidated. It isn't because I have much hope. But I am like a man completely frozen after a
trek through the snow and who suddenly comes into a warm room. I think he would stay
motionless near the door, still cold, and that slow shudders would go right through him."
He then thinks aloud that maybe too, by writing a book or a novel, he can do the same "washing
of himself of the sin of existing", i.e., doing something that would at least make him remember
his life without repugnance.
Leo Robertson: That’s right: my meter is pregnant with stars. A full f**king 5 of them. That said,
did I understand everything I read? F**k no. (The benefit of asterisks as I plan to swear a lot
more :D)
But, many Goodreaders and former me, you can rate something 5* without understanding the
whole thing. The reason in this case being that it communicates something to you that you
don’t fully perceive, creates dialogue puzzles that peak your curiosity to solve another day and
begs for a re-read. But I don’t shy away from my lack of comprehension and before I continue
with some more prattle I’d like to tell you a story.
One day when I was 18 and it was summer and I was looking for my first job, I handed out CVs
all up and down this one street. The next day I discovered there was a number missing from my
phone number on the front page of it, but it was the perfect excuse a few days later for me to go
up and down again and check that people’d had a look at the damn thing. I eventually went to
this really cool café and the guy said ‘Leo, right? Yeah I tried to call you yesterday.’ He took
my number down on the whiteboard behind the bar and said ‘Do you want a coffee?’ and
because I didn’t have any money in my wallet and didn’t know if they accepted cards, I said ‘Nno’ and walked out!! OHHHH IT HURTS! He wanted to have a pure casual interview with me
and I ran away before he could say anything! To think I could have had, even now, a whole
bunch of cool hipster friends; to think I could have had a job that taught me how to make
professional cappuccinos, and in the summer evenings me and my hipster friends’d all go out
to see the bands of each other’s friends performing and consume various substances while it
was still a somewhat acceptable practice! Instead I ended up working in this schoolwear shop
three or four summers in a row serving mostly bitchy mums who came in smelling of the
cappuccinos and croissants I longed to serve them instead. OH, CALLOUS FATE!!
I don’t have a lot to say about this book yet. I’d need to read it again to gain enough meaning
on it to comment (and I will.) Having that potential is enough for me to highly recommend it now.
And really, it has shown me that there is a lot of purpose to laymen like myself reading
philosophical texts. David Foster Wallace said that setting himself up for a career in philosophy
meant writing a lot of things that would only be of interest to other philosophers. Certainly when
I read about the theories of Socrates, Aristotle, Plato, Foucault… and so on, I have no idea what
they’re on about. Or why it matters. Yet. Maybe.
Nausea is not terribly accessible but I do get the impression that it’s meant for a general
audience.
Now I present you with a laymen’s summary of philosophical texts.
Of philosophers I’ve tried:
- Wittgenstein: more like WHAT-genstein?!
- Nietzche: Nietzche’s original miscellany of mad bastard quotes
- Camus: great!
- Sartre: great!
- De Botton: occasionally insightful. Seems like a sweet gentleman.
- More: duh!
I think that’s it.
Philosophical novelists/ fiction writers whose work I’ve enjoyed:
- Dostoyevsky
- Kafka (a bit)
- Musil
- Rand: embarrassed to put her name in this list, but she tells a good tale, even if it is heavily
imbalanced in favour of her crazy theories
- Dante: epic!
- Shakespeare: sometimes.
Philosophy books to read:
- Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason
- Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy
- Anything by Slavoj Zizek since he is such a lovable madman
- Tracy recommends: "Martins Heidegger and Buber"
- Sean recommends: The Exegesis by PKD
I think that’s it.
Enjoy, maybe!!
Sidharth Vardhan: Loners “A guy hardly ever appears like guffawing alone." this present day we
will speak about a different form of loners. they're those which are lonely because of
consciousness. As Dostoevsky's Underground guy, the 1st loner between our list, said: "I swear
to you gentleman, that to be overly wide awake is a affliction , a real, thorough sickness."Each
of our loners will get Adeline rush while he's round humans because of this elevated
consciousness: "I am on my own in the middle of those happy, moderate voices. these types of
creatures spend their time explaining, understanding fortunately that they believe each one
other. In Heaven's name, why is it so vital to imagine an identical issues all together? ”
Loneliness does those bizarre issues to people. They flip philosophers: “Thoughts are the
dullest things." an excessive amount of of awareness of even one’s personal self can disgust a
person: “When i used to be little, Aunt Uigeois instructed me “If you examine your self too
lengthy within the mirror, you will discover a monkey.” And with a majority of these bizarre
thoughts, you can’t aid being a bit bizarre your self this means that humans won’t like you:
“We (children) had a terrible worry of him simply because we sensed he used to be alone.Now,
whereas Mr. Underground appears to be like suffering attempting (and failing) to appreciate this
very loneliness of his; Roquentin is struck into existential issues: “Every residing factor is born
with no reason, prolongs itself out of weak point and dies via chance. An unintentional discovery
of the truth that ‘existence precedes essence’ sits on his brain making him seek whatever
significant – and on failing to do that, he will get a nausea. It disgusts him how a lot of the
lifestyles has acquired destroyed with no leaving any footprints behind.One strategy to cross
from the purpose of loneliness onward – will be to inform your self you're correct in being aloof
and hence be a nihilist like Camus’ outsider. the opposite direction will be to attempt and create
that little that means your self – as in case of Elison’s Invisible guy and Roqentin.Mary most
likely had a job in supporting Roquentin to work out this via her philosophy of ideal moments. I
won’t move into the theory, even if i'm going to proportion a quote: “It's rather an project to
begin loving somebody. you want to have energy, generosity, blindness. there's even a second
correct initially the place you want to bounce throughout an abyss: if you happen to give it some
thought you do not do it.”In the end,Roquentin makes a decision to take action through
attempting to create an immortal artwork piece that would make humans take into accout him
after his death.
Fewlas: Sono sempre intenta a scovare un equivalente musicale alle mie letture, ma questa
volta Sartre mi ha facilitato il compito. Il suo Roquentin è infatti stregato da questo ragtime anni
’20: ”Some of those days” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_0ldg.... Sono quasi sicura che
sia questo. Il pezzo è lui. Roquentin parla di una cantante negra. Sophie Tucker è bianca, l. a.
sua voce, sebbene a volte bluesy, non esprime los angeles solita potenza delle più word
vocalità blues. “Tra un momento ci sarà il ritornello: è sopratutto questo che mi piace e l. a.
maniera improvvisa con cui si getta avanti come una scogliera contro il mare. in line with ora
suona soltanto il jazz, non v’è melodia, solo note, una miriade di piccole scosse. Non hanno
sosta, un ordine inflessibile le fa nascere e le distrugge, senza mai lasciar loro l’agio di
riprendersi, di esistere in keeping with se stesse. Corrono, s’inseguono, passando mi
colpiscono con un urto secco, e s’annullano. Mi piacerebbe trattenerle, ma so che se arrivassi
advert afferrarne una, tra le dita non resterebbe che un suono volgare e languido. Devo
accettare l. a. loro morte; devo perfino volerla: conosco poche impressioni più aspre e più
forti.”Questo brano descrive bene l. a. nausea, sebbene questa non vi sia neppure nominata.
Descrive il concetto di fuggevolezza delle cose. Uno scorrimento d’esistenze singole: una nota
che nasce ed è già morta, ma anche un alito di vento e le fronde da esso mosse: sono tutte
minuscole esistenze che non hanno pace di realizzarsi, di divenire totali. Il processo di
totalizzazione è sempre in corso e non coincide mai con una totalità già data. È ciò che Sartre
chiama il pratico-inerte. E, a mio avviso, il tanto sviscerato paragone con Hegel qui nasce e qui
si ferma.Per Sartre il pratico-inerte è l. a. realtà oggettiva, l’essenza della materia, il residuo
della prassi. E si concretizza -o materializza- come mera oggettività. Da qui il ciottolo dal quale
fuoriesce los angeles nausea in keeping with l. a. prima volta. Dall’essenza del sasso. Cosa
estranea al soggetto. Cosa che si fa sentire esterna e corporea. Cosa che aliena il soggetto,
perché è una minaccia in step with l’uomo, costretto advert agire, advert esteriorizzarsi anche
lui according to sentirsi oggetto. Da qui il paragone con Hegel: perché l’alienazione coincide
con l’oggettivazione.Sartre approfondisce questi concetti in “L’essere e il nulla”.La nausea è
un sentimento che si avverte quando ci si accorge dell’assurda contingenza della realtà.
Dell’inutilità, quindi, dell’esistenza. Esistere di fatto vs esistere di diritto. Il mondo c’è perché
c’è, e non ha alcuna base. Gli esseri che lo percepiscono e lo vivono come qualcosa di
ragionevole, come qualcosa che si basi su un fondamento, esistono di diritto. Al privilegiato che
riesce a rendersi conto dell’assurda contingenza dell’esistenza non è dato esistere di diritto.
Esistono di diritto i piccoli borghesi di provincia che “escono dagli uffici, dopo l. a. giornata di
lavoro, guardano le case e le piazze con aria soddisfatta, pensano che è l. a. loro città, una
bella città borghese. Non hanno paura, si sentono a casa propria…”. Tutti questi uomini con
esistenze di diritto non temono l’erosione del passato. Perché solo il nauseato si rende conto
del nulla delle azioni, e allora anche il narrarsi è impresa difficile. Gli attimi nascono e muoiono
come le observe del pezzo jazz. E, se pur si riesce a narrare qualcosa, non è ciò che si è
vissuto davvero.Ma narrarsi è una modalità d’esistenza solida, si esiste di diritto quando l. a.
parola ha il dono demiurgico d’inventarci los angeles vita. Ma eccola di nuovo, l. a. distinzione:
l’uomo che esiste di diritto racconta los angeles sua esistenza; il suo passato (che il nauseato
ben sa, non è mai esistito) diventa ricordo, aneddoto, saggezza, esperienza. Quest’uomo tenta
di oggettivarsi, gioca l. a. sua parte, esiste. Roquentin, come tutti i melanconici, ha serie
difficoltà a ricordarsi cosa sia accaduto. Tenta di giocare los angeles sua parte da scrittore,
come gioca l. a. sua parte l. a. negra che canta:“La negra canta. Allora, è possibile giustificare
los angeles propria esistenza? Un pochino?”A proposito di tipi melanconici, ecco un curioso
aneddoto: “La nausea" period originariamente intitolato “Melancholia". Simone de Beauvoir
cube che son stati altri a consigliare a Sartre questo nuovo titolo. Altri descrivono meglio il
ragionamento dello scrittore, l. a. ragione del suo cambiamento. Il titolo originario, infatti, si
ispirava all’omonima stampa di Dürer.La figura alata, simbolo della pensosità umana,
rappresenta i conflitti del cosmo. Il riferimento a questa stampa non ha avuto successo, non ha
vinto, perché il dolore che Sartre intendeva descrivere non si conciliava affatto con l. a. modalità
di aggiustamento tutta rinascimentale che si trova nella stampa. Nessun raziocinio potrebbe
porre high quality all’ineluttabilità del conflitto uomo-oggetto.Ritornando al paragone con il
finalismo hegeliano. Anch’esso è di breve durata. E l. a. conseguenza sembrerebbe essere in
contraddizione con l. a. scelta pessimistica del titolo. Un passo alla volta..Ciò che distanzia
Sartre da Hegel è los angeles conclusione della storia, l. a. ragione according to los angeles
quali molti poi considereranno l. a. filosofia di Sartre una filosofia “delle responsabilità”, e non
“della disperazione”: Sartre non accetta los angeles concezione marxista ed hegeliana
dell’uomo schiavo di meccanismi storici; rifiuta l. a. passività dell’uomo perché non crede in
quella legge d’immanenza hegeliana che prevede l’annullamento dell’uomo. Vi è los angeles
nausea, ma vi è anche il suo superamento. Vale a dire los angeles presa di coscienza e
l’assunzione di responsabilità.Ma a me, che tanto è piaciuta l. a. descrizione che Sartre fa di
questa epifania francese ed esistenzialista, il superamento un po’ annoia. [Ecco un hyperlink
dove se ne parla un po’: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dOnRTX...] E, siccome consistent
with narrarlo bisognerebbe stare a parlare ancora un po’ di coscienza e di essere in sé
(distinzione necessaria in step with giungere advert una positiva risoluzione del conflitto uomomondo), mi fermo qua. Ma prima una confessione..Sempre intenta a scovare un equivalente
musicale alle mie letture, non mi son voluta accontentare del suggerimento di Sartre e concludo
questo mio commento con Il comportamento di Gaber. Canzone che traduce in un linguaggio
semplice e diretto quello che io ho cercato di descrivere sopra. Buon
ascolto.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YaSyow...Il comportamentoMio nonno è sempre mio
nonnoè sempre Ambrogio in ogni momentovoglio dire che non ha problemidi comportamento.Io
non assomiglio advert Ambrogiol'interezza non è il mio forteper essere a mio agioho bisogno di
una parte.Per esempio, quando sto in campagnaed accendo il fuoco nel caminolentamente
raccolgo los angeles legnae mi muovo come un contadino.Quando in treno incontro una
donnaio m'invento serio e riservatofaccio quello che parla pocoma c'ha dietro tutto un passato.E
se mi viene bene, se l. a. parte mi funzionaallora mi sembra di essere una persona.Qualche
volta metto il mio giacconegrigioverde tipo guerriglieroe ci metto dentro il mio corpoe già che ci
sono anche il mio pensiero.Quando invece sto leggendo Hegelmi concentro, sono tutto
presonon da Hegel, naturalmentema dal mio fascino di studioso.E se mi viene bene, se l. a.
parte mi funzionaallora mi sembra di essere una persona.Mio nonno si è scelto una parteche
non cambia in ogni momentovoglio dire che c'ha un solo comportamento.Io invece ho sempre
bisognodi una nuova definizionee gli altri fanno lo stessoè una tacita convenzione.Non ne
posso più di recitaredi fingere in keeping with darmi un tonoio mi mostro senza pudorepur di
essere quel che sono.E se mi viene bene, se los angeles parte mi funzionaallora mi sembra di
essere una persona.Se un giorno noi cercassimo chi siamo veramenteho il sospetto che non
troveremmo niente.
Ben Loory: it's not that i am a philosopher. phrases with no images suggest not anything to me. i
as soon as learn Being and Nothingness. it was once like consuming a bit of wood. i ate the
whole lot after which whilst i used to be done, i did not even suppose sick. i simply felt like my
the teeth have been approximately to fall out.anyway, this ebook is different. i heard as soon as
that during his later days sartre disavowed all his past beliefs, his atheism, and have become a
catholic and believed a great deal in God. on the time i presumed that was once extraordinary
and funny, yet after studying this ebook (his first, 1939 (same yr because the wizard of oz)) it
makes sense. so far as i will be able to inform (please take note of the truth that i am an idiot),
this e-book appears to be like announcing that during the face of the sizeable unnecessary
meaninglessness of existence, the single method out is to conceive of a fully inescapable
forward-moving necessity. i'm undesirable with phrases yet that's how i see it. within the
publication it truly is couched by way of a musical melody, yet i feel what it refers to is just that
there needs to by some means be an outdoor want for the not anything to move. the ebook
ends with the narrator's selection to go looking for that need, to make humans see it, might be
via art, via a book. possibly i am nuts, who knows; as a minimum i do not recognize what i am
conversing about... however it now not turns out within the slightest bit unusual to me that sartre
ended up as a believer. it kind of feels to me he was once already there the following first and
foremost of his career... or, on the very least, starting off on his trip with that as his transparent
destination.a paragraph i like:I surprise at those younger people: ingesting their coffee, they
inform clear, believable stories. in the event that they are requested what they did yesterday,
they are not embarrassed: they create you brand new in a number of words. If I have been of
their place, i might fall over myself. it truly is precise that nobody has stricken approximately how
I spend my time for an extended while. should you stay on my own you now not recognize what
it's to inform something: the believable disappears whilst the friends.anyway, as a unique it is a
meandering and principally inscrutable mess. as a suite of scenes it really is poetic and
sometimes brilliant. i love mysteries (mysteries within the grand feel (though additionally within
the body-in-the-library sense)) and this is often jam-packed with them. i do not rather recognize
what else to say. i nonetheless don't believe i need to learn Being and Nothingness again. yet i
admire sartre now. "Life starts at the different aspect of despair." i guess he knew easy methods
to take a seat quietly and luxuriate in a cup of coffee.
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